Compassion

What makes someone “cool?” The appearance of a “cool” person changes from generation to generation. A cool person in the 1950s (leather jacket and t-shirt) looks different than the cool person from the 60s (long hair and love beads), or the 70s (disco suit, huge collar and platform shoes) or the 80s (parachute pants and swatch watch). To show you how out of it I am, I don’t even know what cool is today. You’ve got your geeks and nerds and hipsters, but honestly, I’m not sure what it looks like anymore.

            But what cool acts like is more constant. The cool person seems to be in control of their emotions. Being cool means you never really show what’s going on deep down inside, whether you’re hurt or lonely or excited.  In more extreme cases, you could say that the urge to be cool is a conscious move away from innocence—it’s a way of being in the world that basically says, “Life stinks. People hurt you and disappoint you. I’ll never let myself be treated that way again, so I’m putting up this wall. I’m putting on this mask so you’ll never see how vulnerable I am.”

            By that definition, Jesus would definitely have to be considered uncool. Here was God in the flesh walking around in the world, but he wasn’t above it all. He refused to be cynical about people. He wore his emotions on his sleeve. He wasn’t afraid to feel deeply for people, or to get upset about their problems. Jesus was all about attachment, not detachment. And that is very, very good news.

            So we see the uncool Jesus in the Gospel of Luke, coming across a funeral procession. Through the city gates of Nain comes a broken-hearted mother mourning the death of her only son. Jesus sees this situation and is moved with compassion. Now it’s extremely important that we understand what is meant by compassion here. It’s more than just feeling sorry for someone. In the original Greek, the word is “splangchthna.” Great word. “Splangchthna.” Sounds, messy, doesn’t it? Almost like ‘Splat.” Which is appropriate, because “Splangchthna” means “gut-wrenching.” It means you feel so bad for someone else’s pain that your insides feel all twisted up. That’s how Jesus felt as he watched this funeral procession. He hates the effects of sin he sees. He hates the fact that death robbed a young man of life. He hates the fact that a widow has been robbed of last remaining family member and source of support. Grief and sadness has rippled out into the whole village. Jesus cannot stand coolly by, detached, hiding his feelings behind dark shades. His splangchthna causes him to act immediately. His compassion causes him to do something very uncool. He stops the funeral, touches the coffin, and talk to the dead man. Awkward, right? Except, when Jesus talks, He speaks words of life. He commands the young man to live again, and a dead heart starts beating again. Dead lungs fill with oxygen. A dead brain starts firing signals. Dead eyes start gathering images, and a dead mouth begins to speak.  Life returns by the word of Jesus. The young man is alive again. So, in a sense, is his mother. The town’s grief is turned to amazement. That’s what happens when the Life-giver shows up—the Life-giver who goes around getting his guts wrenched by the pain and suffering that he sees. Splangchthna. Maybe you’ve felt it too.

This was not an isolated event in Jesus’ life. The gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John record at least eight other instances when Jesus’ Splangchthna resulted in immediate action. His compassion resulted in loving service to lepers, blind men, the demon-possessed, and the hungry, not to mention the dead and grieving! In many of these acts, Jesus exposed himself to ritual impurity, like here in Luke, touching the open air coffin of the young man exposed Jesus to a day’s uncleanness, according to Jewish law and custom. Touching the corpse meant a week’s worth of uncleanness, the most severe form of ritual impurity. In a religious sense, what Jesus was willing to do was not cool, and it opened him up to all kinds of criticism! The religious establishment could only see a radical miracle worker with a blatant disregard for the rules, and therefore, this Jesus is a problem. His followers saw, and we can see it too, through the eyes of faith, the power of Splangthna. In Jesus, we see compassionate love so strong that he was willing to be covered with filth to bring his holiness to the situation. That’s how he operates. That’s how he saves you and me.

Jesus hated the effects of sin he saw in the world. He hated the fact that death robbed young men and women and children of life. He hated the fact that sickness and disease robbed husbands and wives of long life together. He hated the fact that grief and sadness and despair has rippled out across the world. Jesus did stand coolly by, detached, hiding his feelings behind dark shades. His splangchthna caused him to act. His compassion caused him to do something very uncool. It caused Him to sweat drops of blood, to cry and pray in the Garden of Gethsemane. It caused Him to be slapped around by guards and treated like a circus sideshow by rulers. It caused him to be punished like a criminal, his body and his heart broken, insulted even while hanging on the cross. His holiness was swamped by our filth. It drowned Him. Splangcthna. He let it happen. You know why, don’t you? Because Jesus knew it was either Him or you.

Once upon a time a bee stung a woman on the cheek. Then it chased her daughter around the room. The little girl was terrorized, until her mother said, “It’s OK, sweetie, the bee left its stinger in me. It can’t hurt you now.” The gigantic stinger of eternal death was plunged into Jesus on the cross, and he let it happen, because he knew it was either Him or you. Splangthna. Compassion. “Death has lost its sting.”

Can you handle the fact that Jesus loves you that much? Our God aches for you to know the real freedom he can give; He passionately desires for you to grow in faith and wisdom. His gut-wrenching compassion rescued you for eternity.

How will you release that compassion in your life?

If You Build It...

In the movie Field of Dreams, an Iowa farmer builds a temple of sorts. He becomes convinced of the need to replace a cornfield with a unique temple, a baseball diamond. He is driven by the motto: “If you build it, they will come.” And in the movie, they do come—“they” being ballplayers from times past—the Shoeless Joes who emerge from the surrounding corn fields to finish baseball business. At the movie’s end, “they” also includes a long line of cars making their way along Iowa’s back roads to watch the baseball action.

“If you build it, they will come” is also the operative conviction in today’s Old Testament reading, although it speaks of a far greater temple—the temple built by King Solomon as the dwelling place of the Almighty God. Solomon’s temple was no mere ballpark in a cornfield, but there are some parallels between the fictional baseball diamond and the factual house of God.

For instance, in Field of Dreams, there’s a lot of skepticism about whether the ballplayers of the past would really come to play ball. The magic of the story is that they did. A similar--though much greater--question surfaces in the case of Solomon’s temple. Now that we have built it, “will God really dwell on earth?” His answer is a resounding “yes”—He promised, “My name shall be there,” and where God’s name is, God is. Now, you could sit there today thinking, “Well, God’s name is here, too, so does that mean God is here, now?” The answer is a resounding “yes.” Hopefully we meant it when we sang “God Himself is Present,” because He is! It tells you a lot about our natural condition when people go to church, but don’t really expect God to show up. By His own promise, He comes to you in the Bible and at His Table. He descends to us here in this place. Why else would you come here, if not for that?

Do you realize, you are like the people who drove out to the cornfield baseball diamond to watch the game in Field of Dreams? “If you build it, they will come.” Really? Today as we meet for worship in this hour, think about this: you are the fulfillment of Solomon’s words. What an Old Testament King said in a prayer thousands and thousands of years ago is coming true because of you! Because of us! Because of a God who loves to gather us by His Word! Do you hear what Solomon is saying? You are the foreigner he was talking about in verse 41, the non-Israelite. You have heard of the great name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. You have heard and experienced his mighty hand and outstretched arm. You have heard his good news and sensed his activity in the world. What you have heard and believed has brought you here into God’s house. And I don’t mean to shock you, but God has shown up today. His voice calls to you from His Word. He is under bread and wine, waiting to commune with you. The Lord of the highest heavens cannot be contained in structures built by human hands, and yet in love for you and me; out of deep concern for your well being, God descends to you here, not to punish you; not to demand your loyalty; not to force you to grovel at his feet; but to serve you; to serve you. That’s why we call this the Divine Service. God is serving us.

Now, we sang this hymn before, which you may or may not know very well: “God Himself Is Present.” Look at what this hymn is saying. If you want to look at the words in the bulletin or in the hymnal, I encourage you to do that. “God Himself is present: Let us now adore Him/And with awe appear before Him. God is in His temple—All within keep silence, Prostrate lie with deepest reverence.”

Are you tracking with the words of this hymn? Does this describe your experience in worship? “God is in His temple—All within keep silence, Prostrate lie with deepest reverence.” Do you know what that means? It means to shut your mouth and lie down on the ground before the awesome power of the Lord God Almighty. The closest we get to that around here is when we are invited to kneel during the confession of sins—and that’s appropriate. That’s the right idea. That posture is close to lying down on the ground in deep reverence, but of course it’s not about the posture of your body. It’s about the posture of your heart. It’s about the posture of your heart when you enter this building and take your seat in the pew. Do you see how appropriate is it to shut your mouth and lie down before God? Do you think He’s OK with all the things you’ve thought since the last time you were here? Do you think He’s OK with all the things you’ve said and done and refused to do—all the things you’ve looked at and wanted and rejected? Do you think he’s OK with being denied and ignored and used? For who we are and what we have done, God would be justified in saying, “Get out of my face.”

He is holy; totally unlike us. And totally unlike us, He is merciful. You have heard of the great name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. You have heard and experienced his mighty hand and outstretched arm. You have heard his good news and sensed his activity in the world. What you have heard and believed has brought you here into God’s house. When you come admitting who you are and what you have done; when your heart takes a posture of vulnerability and openness to God, then you are ready to hear this: The Lord God Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, finds you not guilty. You have a spotless record before the Lord. You will do no time for your offenses. Do you know why? It’s not because you didn’t really do those things. It’s because the Son of God, Jesus, stepped in and took your sentence. Voluntarily. He was not led to a chamber for lethal injection or strapped into an electric chair. No, his back felt the Roman whip. He was nailed to a wooden cross. A spear was thrust into his side, probably piercing his heart. His Father turned away, and his heart was definitely broken. Jesus endured that, when it should’ve been me. Should’ve been you. It’s Jesus instead. Mercy.

“God Himself is present: let us now adore Him and with awe appear before Him.” Do you see why we should adore him? Do you see why awe is the right reaction? Once more, God has descended to you here, not to punish you; not to demand your loyalty; not to force you to grovel at his feet; but to forgive you. To put you in your right mind. To cause a rebirth of faith in your heart. In answer to Solomon’s ancient prayer, The Lord has come to you, and you have come to Him.